


Acquaintances

by d_aia



Series: Tree [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 17:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: Moments in the lives of Christine and Tony.





	Acquaintances

**Author's Note:**

> This story is connected to _Roots_ because people in it make a reference to the relationship between Christine and Tony and this is what I pictured it to be. It's not necessary, however, to read _Roots_ in order to understand _Acquaintances_. Someone actually asked for a similar story but I can't find the comment, I'm sorry. Enjoy!

1.

Christine knows she is in trouble, she knows why she is in trouble, but she doesn’t know how to get out of said trouble.

For the first, she knows she’s in trouble because she _saw_ the security people following her. Not that they were hiding or anything; they were actually confidently, obviously, and very creepily stalking her. They were probably trying to intimidate her, in which case tough luck, and terrify her—they were doing a splendid job of that.

Why? She made an ultra-rich man give a detailed account about working illegally with another similarly-rich man. The first is a fellow American, the second is a South African.  

As for the third and last side of the problem, well, she’s in South Africa. The American can afford to send his security people after her because, of course, she’d get attacked or killed in a ‘third world country’. That sounds like something nobody would look at twice. Never mind that’s an American who orders the stalking, the attacking, and, possibly, the killing.  

Christine always hates how most people think that crime is what comes from outside, rather than being a human flaw that transcends cultures.

Now, she has managed to lose the comically menacing minions in the crowd, but she doesn’t think she’s in any way safe. They could gain on her at any time or just stumble in the right direction. Also, there’s a good chance that not every one of them was obvious about following her.

Christine is in trouble and her brain works at double speed to figure out _something_ when she sees it: Stark Industries – South African Branch. Jaw working, she tries to plan it out, but there’s nothing to consider or doubt. There’s no time.

Crossing the street attentively because it would be just like her luck today to have some car run her over, Christine heads for the entrance. Nearly there. And... She’s in.

“Good afternoon,” the receptionist—Kayla, according to her tag—greets.

Christine lets out a silent sigh of relief—she’s safe for now.

“Good afternoon,” Christine says. “Could I possibly talk to Mr. Stark?”

Kayla looks sincerely sad. “No, I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to contact him directly.”

“That’s okay.” And it is. Christine just wanted to draw attention to herself in case somebody has the bright idea to make her disappear from a Stark building. “Can I sit down for a bit?”

Kayla hesitates, frowning for a fraction of a second. “Of course.”

And that means that Christine has a five-minute window to take a breath and plan what to do next. She nods and thanks Kayla, then heads for the couches in the hallway. Taking a seat, she realizes she _needs_ to relax. No matter how she doesn’t have time for it right now, her heart is pounding and her ideas are a panicky mess. She’s not thinking clearly.

Christine just needs to breathe for a few seconds, and she does, but before Christine gets to do anything else, Kayla signals her.  

“Is there something wrong?” Christine asks.

Kayla shakes her head, smiling widely. “A phone call for you.”

That’s unexpected, but what Christine says is, “Thank you.”

 “It’s Mr. Stark,” Kayla says and leaves to the other side of the desk to give them privacy.

Christine does her best to seem unfazed, but she’s taken completely by surprise. “Hello, Mr. Stark.”

“Hi.” Stark comes through clearly—of course, he does, he’s Tony Stark—but he seems half distracted, half worried. “I heard you were looking for me.”

“Not in that sense,” Christine says as she catches on to what must be on his mind.  “I’m not writing anything that you might be concerned with at the moment.”

“That’s… confusing.”

“I’m just using your well-guarded building to put my thoughts in order.”

Stark stops for a beat and then says, “Who’s after you?”

“Not—” _‘Nothing I can’t handle,’_ she wants to say, but the truth is that ever since she had to give up her phone to stay ahead of the people following her, things have been going downhill. She down to the memory card in an earring and no support. “Mr. Oldewine.” It helps immensely that Stark is one of those few people who isn’t inclined to shut up and can’t be forced into it.

Stark laughs. “You lit a fire under his ass, didn’t you?”

“He may have said something to me that he did not intend to,” Christine admits, a smirk playing on her lips. She caught the bastard, she deserves it. “I had little to do with it.”

“I’m sure.” Stark sounds amused. “I’m sending a car. They’ll take you to my jet and back home.”

Swallowing her surprise, Christine says, “Thank you.”

“I’ll be on the lookout for that article.”

Christine nods. “It won’t disappoint.”

And it doesn’t. Later, Stark sends her an email with his phone number and a message: _If you ever need it, I’m always here for a laugh._ Christine smiles and memorizes the number. Just in case.

 

“I was wondering if you want to test some weapons?” Christine asks.

“Not really.”

“The new 9mm handgun, with the 40 bullets magazine.”

Stark doesn’t even pause. “No.”

“Not even if people’s safety depends on it?”

Stark sighs. “Fine.”

*

“My source tells me that while the first magazine is expended the metal warps imperceptibly. With the second, even if the gun is allowed to cool, the barrel’s condition only gets worse,” Christine says. “Do you have any comments?”

“Where did you get that?” the testy face of the producing company asks. Woodsknee is no Stark, he’s not even a Hammer. “You can’t just launch these accusations willy-nilly under the cover that you have a source.”

“If you want figures, I have them right here” Christine lifts her notebook. “In layman’s terms, the defect can range from inaccurate shooting to the gun exploding. Getting to more technical notions, the density of the metal isn’t enough to withstand the friction created by the—”

Woodsknee sharply waves his arm to make it clear that he doesn’t want to hear any more.  “Preposterous!”

“We’ll look into it,” Senator Stern’s replacement, Senator Wask, says and smiles falsely. “If we have reason to. A good way to guarantee that would be to verify the credibility of your source. May we have their identity?”

Christine offers him a sweet smile. “Why haven’t you looked into it before?”

“We wouldn’t happen to find some _irregularities_ , would we?” Wask leans forward. “With your source. Like, say, corporate espionage?”

Christine continues to smile and Wask’s eyes narrow.

“You didn’t have enough time to so strenuously test the gun and Mr. Woodsknee assures me that he made the design himself so this is not a case of whistleblowing, which makes it one of two things: we can’t rely on your results because they came to light while somebody was committing a crime and as a general rule, we must be skeptical of criminals; or we can’t rely on them because they aren’t accurate.”

“With all due respect,” Christine says dryly, “there’s a third possibility. I don’t have the resources or the expertise to test it, possibly no one here has since it is such a big issue, but that doesn’t mean that _nobody_ does. In point of fact, my source did the test in the provided twenty-four hour and they reached the conclusions as I’ve read them. The gun is unreliable, at best, and at worst very dangerous. Do you have any comments?”

The Senator studies Christine for a second. “Are you that certain of your source?”

“I am.” Christine smile turns shark-like. “Comments?”

*

“Who is this source you staked our reputation on?” Sam asks. She rubs wearily at her forehead, making Christine think that editors have some of the most thankless jobs out there. “’Cause if it isn’t… I don’t know, _Tony Stark_ , you really shouldn’t have done that.”

“It is.”

Sam’s hand comes to a stop over her eyes and she makes an indecipherable sound.

“He didn’t ask for anonymity,” Christine says. She watches Sam carefully, recognizing that Sam needs a minute until she finds her words again. “I just didn’t want to tell it.”

“Well…” Sam giggles hysterically. “If it’s _Tony Stark…_ ”

Christine gets her a glass of water.

 

“I want to look into something for me,” Stark says, once Christine has her coffee.

“You might not like what I find.”

“I know.”

“Maybe now’s not the best time?” Christine asks thinking of the mountain of trouble he’s in after Ultron.

Stark smiles. “I know.”

“Okay.”

The details of an unexploded bomb in Sokovia with the Stark brand on it make Christine understand his determination.

*

“Obviously, you knew that the bomb wasn’t sold under the table,” Christine says and waits for Stark’s nod. “As far as I could tell, the rebels had access to military bases. They got the weapons from the 1996 war when the US was allied with Sokovia. You were in charge of Stark Industries at the time.” She shakes her head. “Am I glad that the US interfered in the Sokovia-Hungary conflict? Let’s go with ‘no,’ it’s simpler. But it wasn’t an illegal deal. It wasn’t even frowned upon. Your company—you—made weapons for the US Government and they used them.”

“So that’s why it didn’t explode.”

Christine snorts. “Not only did it not explode, but I also have no way of knowing that the bomb that did explode was Stark made. There was a bunch of ammunition that they had access to so there’s really no way to tell.”

“I doubt it was Hammer made.” Stark shudders. “It’s all this nightmare needs.”

“It could have been.” Christine swallows a smile. “They had a pretty good R&D head at the time, a Dr. Mulch.”

“Mulch was the best thing to ever happen to Hammer Industries and that’s poetic.”

Christine gives him a look. “You had a drug problem back then, but your work was still brilliant. It could have been an even older missile. After all, the US isn’t in the business of gifting anybody with the most up-to-date weapons.”

Sighing, Stark gives a bitter smile. “Your words make me feel proud.”

“You do have some responsibility.” Christine fiddles with her cup. “But the US people do too. It wasn’t our place to interfere in that war and we allowed it to happen. And, speaking of responsibility, so do the Sokovians who didn’t secure the armament deposits. Yours is somewhere in between.” She fixes Stark with her eyes. “Let’s not forget that the rebels are to blame for shooting down an apartment block.”

“That simple?”

“I’m sorry, Stark, you can’t take all of the world’s sins on your shoulders.”

Stark gives a small smile. “Watch me.”

“I intend to.” Christine takes a sip of paint-stripping coffee. Mmm, just as she likes it. “I don’t know when I can fit the information in, but I’ll get to it.”

“Sure.”

“It’s important.”

“I know.”

“It’s exculpatory.”

“That’s why it won’t get published.”

Christine smirks. “Oh, it will.”

“Tony,” Stark says after a pause. “You should call me Tony.”

 

4.

“I need an in at the Gala tonight,” Christine says breathlessly.

Tony chuckles. “Hello to you too, Christine. I don’t know about any Galas.”

“Check with FRIDAY?”

A click and FRIDAY interjects, “The Deep Grounds Foundation Gala?”

“Yes!” Christine confirms, a little too enthusiastically.

“Isn’t this now?”

“It is, Boss,” FRIDAY says.

“Are you doubting your abilities to get in somewhere?” Christine smirks. “I bet you even got an invitation. Work with me here.”

Tony snorts. “Who are you hounding?”

“Congressman Ike.”

“Ooooh, I do not like him,” FRIDAY says. “Boss?”

“Who am I to disagree?” Tony asks. “It’ll take an hour. I hold you responsible for the quality of the coffee.”

*

“Congressman Ike.” Christine cornered him at the bar with a wolfish smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Ike swallows. “I thought this was invitation only.”

“I’m a plus one.”

*

“The coffee’s bad,” Tony says expectantly.

Christine laughs and takes his arm. “I know a hole-in-the-wall.” She heads toward the exit. “And I want to celebrate. Don’t worry, it’s so strong you’ll lose all your teeth.”

“Goodie.”

 

5.

Christine nods as she reviews the list of questions. “Thank you,” she says absently.

“That’s it then?” Tony asks.

“Might need a follow-up.”

“To what?”

Christine looks up. “This isn’t it. You gave an interview on the Accords and the violent disbanding of the Avengers, but I don’t consider my article done.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m going to change my system to turn into your personal interviewer,” Christine laughs. “It’s obvious that I won’t and you know me too well to expect it. Since you had your choice of reporters and I still got picked, I must have done something else right.”

“You tell the truth.”

“I do.”

“That’s the truth.”

“It’s your side of it.”

Tony sighs. “How much worse can it get?”

“For you?” Christine asks. “I’d think it would get better. You take responsibility for most actions that were taken and, the few that you don’t, you point to General Ross and Zemo.” She looks down over her notes. “You cover, at most, three sides of the story. By my calculation, there are at least six and I can easily pile up two more. To be honest, the way you ignore a central figure in this is concerning.”

“Rogers.”

“He’s a self-fulfilling prophecy if I ever saw one and he just threw a whole lot of people under the bus.”

Tony rubs his forehead. “He was grieving and scared.”

“I wonder whether that’s an explanation, an excuse, or both. For the consequences, that mostly didn’t touch him, there better be a strong argument towards both. I want to find out if it exists.”

“Go forth, I guess.”

“Thanks.” Christine smiles. “I was going to, anyway.”

“Hello,” Christine greets. She’s surprised to see him in the small coffee shop again. “You liked the coffee so much?”

“Dum-e put oil in mine,” Tony says. “Hi. I suspect it was intentional.”

“Too thorough?”

“That.” Tony takes a sip. “And too innocent.”

Christine snorts.

“See you around, Christine.”

“See you,” Christine says. “Ah, Tony. The Schumm Gala?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe don’t go?”

Tony turns to give her a look. “All right.” He waves and he’s out the door.

As Christine smiles the barista asks, “Was that Tony Stark?”

“Yes.”

“Are you friends or something?”

Shrugging, Christine says, “We’re acquaintances.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


End file.
